


Magnetism

by constellationqueen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, hinata and kageyama have a strange but loving relationship, hinata battles with gravity and sometimes gravity wins, it's basically in canon but entirely made up, it's really short and like not much happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21497953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constellationqueen/pseuds/constellationqueen
Summary: Just a short piece about Hinata getting hurt during a game. Simple as that.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, if u squint ig
Comments: 6
Kudos: 286





	Magnetism

“Asahi, nice serve!”

“One more!”

Hinata’s voice rings loud, following up Daichi’s encouragement like a punch in the ribs. It’s a wind-up, it’s excitement, but it’s a warning to the team across the court, too. At the net on the right, Tobio meets eyes with the other team’s setter and grins. No one gets under his skin the way Hinata does, pushing him to his limit to do more, better, faster, but he knows that Hinata affects more than just him. The guy’s a monster, and everyone here knows it.

“Nice serve,” he calls, but covers the back of his head just in case. With Azumane’s serve, it’s more likely to be a home run than a smack to the skull, but he hasn’t taken any chances since Hinata bit him.

The serve goes up with a shot of adrenaline to the meager crowd gathered to cheer them on, and it’s good, short and messing up their rhythm.

“Cover!”

“Yukine!”

Hinata races up beside him, and the crowd falls away. It’s just this moment, this crouch, Hinata taking off a moment sooner to make up for their height difference.

The ball smacks off Hinata’s fingers.

“One touch!” he shouts, and then he’s gone.

“Chance ball!” Daichi’s got their backs, getting low for an easy receive in the middle. “Kageyama!”

It’s perfect, an ideal location, and Tobio moves to it quickly to catch up with Hinata’s whirlwind at the net.

Tobio breathes. They haven’t used the monster quick yet, but Hinata’s clearly gearing up for it. Even without it, he’s being the perfect decoy, racing and dodging because that’s the only thing he can do right now – score points. Tobio’s used him perfectly this match, getting the winning shot on the first set, getting them into a lead here in the second match. Hinata is a bullet that never stops, and Tobio knows exactly how and when to fire.

Tanaka’s open, but Hinata’s in the lead of the blockers.

_Go_, he thinks, wills the ball into motion, and shoots it off over his shoulder. He looks only after he’s tossed, and Hinata, backlit by the crowd, by the light slamming in through the court’s high windows, really looks like he could have wings. _Go_.

The ball snaps to the floor.

“Alright!” Hinata yells, running back as soon as he’s landed to high-five Tanaka and Daichi.

Tobio’s chest fills with pride, at his own toss, at Hinata’s perfect trust and evolving aim. “Nice kill,” he says, perfectly serious. “But move faster next time, dumbass. They were right behind you.”

Hinata gets puffed up like the stupid little bird he is. “_Huh_? That’s where they’re supposed to be, _idiot_.”

Tobio glares at him because he’s right. “Maybe I’ll just toss to Azumane and Tanaka for the rest of the match.”

That gets a sputter and a frustrated huff, and, seething, Hinata turns back to the net.

“Hey,” Tobio doesn’t turn to look, because Daichi and Tanaka are already calling for a nice serve again. “Let’s do that again.”

Hinata widens his stance. “Hell yeah.”

“Nice serve!” Tobio calls, hands up on his head again.

It goes over with a smack, and the audience fades again, Tobio focused only on the ball, on where it might go up. It moves to their setter off to the left and – a feint? He switches it up at the last minute, tossing to the left, and Tobio is two steps behind.

Tanaka rushes up, jumping with Hinata, but the spiker hits it off their hands and lets it fly out of bounds. The other team’s cheers roar in Tobio’s ears. He clicks his tongue, the shake of his head sending drops of sweat dancing off his hair. Hinata throws a fit, staring at his hands like they betrayed him, even if the rebound was off of Tanaka’s right hand.

“Ah,” Azumane sighs, rubbing the back of his head. “I wanted to get at least one more point from serving.”

“Don’t mind, don’t mind,” Daichi says, slapping Azumane on the back and then clapping his hands. “Let’s get that back.”

“Hell yeah!” Hinata and Tanaka cheer, getting back into position with bent knees and fisted hands. Hinata looks fired up. They all do. Tobio’s not going to let this receive go to waste, trusting that the ball will go up.

The serve comes over, within diving distance of their best receiver.

“Sorry! It’s long!” Nishinoya calls, but Tobio can already see that.

“Don’t mind,” he says, pinpointing the drop point and letting his spatial awareness tell him where everyone’s moving. Azumane’s in the center, running at first tempo for a back attack. Tanaka’s to the left with two blockers on him. Daichi is ready for a spike, too, covering distance quickly, bent low like he’s going to jump high.

But it’s Hinata who calls to Tobio, a tornado leading a single blocker on a string, going long to the right because no one thinks that they can do that quick again, especially from a side swipe position, especially so close to the net. They’re underestimating Tobio’s ability and Hinata’s reflexes.

That’s their loss.

Tobio throws the ball like it’s magnetized, but Hinata was moving faster and further than Tobio thought, and it’s short. Time slows, and he can see Hinata watching the ball, the blocker’s hands up and out, ready for a hard spike that isn’t going to make it. Fuck. He fucked up. He’s going to prove correct their theories that their monster quick was a fluke.

Hinata throws out his left hand, and his fingertips connect, pushing the ball up and over in a movement so light and direct that it looks like an intentional feint.

Tobio’s breath catches. And then time moves as it should once more.

With a crash, Hinata slams into the floor, his momentum working too well with gravity to prevent him from landing perfectly on his feet. He’ll get back up. He just scored an impossible point, something he never would have been able to do at the end of last year. He’s already on his knees.

The team is shouting.

But Hinata stays on the floor.

Something’s wrong.

“Hinata?” Tobio is the first one to speak, because he’s always watching his bullet striker, waiting for him to do something new, something surprising enough to make Tobio realize that he still has ample room for improvement.

“I’m fine,” Hinata calls back, but he’s tense, and he’s not getting up.

The whistle blows, cutting off a shout from Tanaka, and Tobio moves before his mind can catch up with his feet. He grabs Hinata by the collar of his jersey. “If you’re fine, then get to your feet.”

“Hey, Kageyama – ”

Hinata grabs Tobio by the wrist and presses down, like he’s going to use him as a brace to get back up. That’s fine. As long as he gets back on his feet, as long as he’s fine. He has to be fine.

As soon as his right foot touches the floor, Hinata’s face contorts and he collapses.

“Hinata.” It’s Ukai, kneeling down next to him. “Don’t force yourself. You’ll just make it worse.”

Tobio still has his fist in Hinata’s jersey, and Hinata’s still holding on, so tight it might bruise, so tight his knuckles are white.

Crying. He’s crying.

The crowd really is silent now, holding their breath while Tobio can’t seem to catch his own. It was his bad toss threw Hinata off his balance. He should have tossed to Azumane for a back attack. He should have taken his chances with Tanaka. But Hinata had jumped. Hinata was there. He’s always supposed to be there.

“It’s not broken,” Hinata says, desperate, like he needs to believe it. Breaks are uncommon in volleyball, but Hinata’s a reckless dumbass, so if anyone could manage a break, it would be him. He’d be out for months.

Even with a sprain, he’s going to be out for a long time.

“Sit down,” Tobio says, pushing Hinata onto his left hip so that his right leg can slide out and stop taking the weight of his body. “And shut up. It’s not broken.”

Hinata’s still crying, though he’s trying to keep the tears in as much as possible. “Kageyama… it was a good toss. Don’t apologize.”

No. Tobio grabs the front of Hinata’s jersey, pushing him back, conscious of his ankle but still mad as fuck. “It was short!”

“Kageyama!”

He ignores Daichi and the coach.

“If it had been longer, you’d still be in the game!”

Hinata doesn’t even blink at him. There’s no instant comeback, no rise of anger to battle Tobio’s own. He just grabs Tobio’s other wrist and stares him down. “You’re the team’s pillar. You touch the ball the most. If you start doubting your tosses, you’re going to lose the point I just got us.”

Tobio freezes. The whole team freezes. Fuck. He keeps forgetting that Hinata’s matured so much.

“You dumbass,” he says, grip loosening, aware that Takeda is pressing an ice pack to Hinata’s ankle now. “I never doubt my tosses.”

Hinata smiles, and the tears ease up just a little.

Ukai looks up and beckons at their sub players. “Kinoshita!” The second year jogs forward, crouching down next to Hinata. “Get him to the nurse. If he has to go to the hospital, come back and get Shimizu.”

“Got it.” Kinoshita looks at Tobio, who finally releases his grip from Hinata completely, though Hinata doesn’t let go of Tobio. “Hinata,” Kinoshita says, offering his hand.

Hinata reaches out with his right hand but keeps his left on Tobio’s wrist, so Tobio adjusts his grip and helps pull Hinata up.

The crowd roars, both sides showing support for overcoming the injury. But Tobio can see how much it hurts just to have all that blood rushing down to his ankle. “Hey,” he says, squeezing Hinata’s hand. “We can survive without you.”

Kinoshita ducks down to be a better support for their short spiker, and Hinata cooperatively hooks his arm around Kinoshita’s shoulder.

“I know,” he says, moving his eyes around the team. “But you won’t have as much fun without me.”

Tsukishima clicks his tongue. “We might be able to think without you, though.”

“Rude!” Hinata cries, and there’s the ferocious little crow again. Well done, Tsukishima.

“Go rest,” Tobio says, using his free hand to get Hinata’s grip off his wrist. “We’ll take the match.”

Hinata leaves the court half draped over Kinoshita to a roar from the crowd.

Ukai looks a little lost, and Takeda is staring at the doorway as if hoping this is a fluke.

But Tobio saw the ankle, the swelling that’s already started. Hinata’s not going to play for a long time, let alone get back in before the match is over.

Daichi claps his hands, getting their attention back. “It’s alright, we’ve recovered from injuries before. We can’t let Hinata show us up, but let’s make sure we don’t waste that point!”

“Right!” The team cheers, Tobio among them, but he’s watching Ukai bring Sugawara over.

After a brief talk between the two of them, Suga steps up to Tobio. “Okay?” he asks, as always too perceptive of his team. It sort of freaks Tobio out, even if it’s nice to know he doesn’t have to be the only one watching their players.

“Yeah.” Tobio faces the court, the team waiting to try and take advantage of their change in momentum and new players. “He’s the only one who’s hard to aim at. I’ll be fine setting to the rest of you.”

Sugawara huffs a light laugh, and Tobio steps onto the court. “That’s not what I meant,” Suga says, but he follows Tobio out anyway.

They win the set and the match cleanly with a four point lead, easily taking advantage of the other team’s miscalculations. Hinata still hasn’t come back, even though Kinoshita returned. But Shimizu’s still here, too, so Hinata must be on sight and not at the hospital. After they clear the court, the whole team flocks to the nurse’s office, but Tobio pushes through before anyone else can.

“Hey, Kageyama!” Someone reaches for his jersey, but he ducks inside before they can pull him back, pushing at the door because he needs a moment alone with his dumbass spiker. As the door closes, he hears Suga pacifying the team.

The nurse looks up at him, takes note of his jersey, and then nods to the cot in the corner, as if there’s anyone else in here. Tobio nods his thanks anyway and walks over.

Hinata’s lying down, his right leg propped up high by a stack of pillows, a thick ice pack wrapped around his ankle. His eyes light up when he sees Tobio. “We won,” he says, with confidence he absolutely has experience to back up.

“I told you we wouldn’t lose.” Tobio stands next to the cot for a moment, unsure what to do now that he’s gotten his moment alone. Finally, he sits down on the edge of the cot, eyes on Hinata’s injury. “Shouyou.” He hates this. He’s going to be blaming himself for this injury for a long time – maybe forever.

“Kageyama.” Hinata’s voice is firm, and Tobio turns in time to watch Hinata’s hand reach out and take his own, lacing their fingers together. When he looks up, Hinata’s eyes are on fire. “I’ll be better by the time we get to Nationals.”

Tobio stares, surprised, and then his face softens into a smile he’s learned to wear around Hinata. “Yeah.” It’ll be a long road to healing, and it’ll likely feel like years for Hinata, but if he rests and does whatever stretches he’s told to do, then he’ll make it back to the court. “I’ll pave the way for you.”


End file.
